


Not gay - Alright, maybe a little...

by BackwardsReesa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Case, First Meeting, First Time, Fluff, Kisses, Love at First Sight, M/M, Smut, flatmates, restaurant, well a small case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2602214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BackwardsReesa/pseuds/BackwardsReesa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes back from his visit of his Mom and meets a beautiful stranger in the train. He gets along with him very well and the man offers him to share his flat with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not gay - Alright, maybe a little...

**Author's Note:**

> That's the second time I write smut in english, please don't judge me for my bad english!
> 
> EDIT: I changed the Format and the tense form! Thanks to brage for helping me! (sorry, I have no idea how to tag someone in here....)

With a heavy sigh, John sat down in an uncomfortable seat on the train to London. He came from visiting his mother, which ends every time with his mother and sister yelling at each other and him trying to comfort everyone. It had been an exhausting procedure and he was glad to live far away from them in London. John watched the other people getting in their seats, the train painfully packed with strangers. He looked out of the window, when the train finally starts moving.

The landscape was boring, the green and brown of fields and trees not comparable to the sight in front of him. There, in the seat right in front of him, sat a man with dark, curly hair, prominent cheekbones and piercing grey eyes. John tried not to stare, but he couldn’t do anything against it. The clothes of the man seemed to be very expensive, a tailored suit and a woollen coat. The man held a mobile phone in his hands, concentrating on the continuing buzzing of it. Suddenly, like he had felt his stare, he lifted his gaze. John was too occupied with the moving of the muscles at the man’s neck to look away quick enough.

“Is it possible to look away, Doctor? Your stare distracts me.”

The voice of the man was deep and smoky and John ran a shiver down his spine.

“Sure, sorry.” John looked out of the window. Wait. “How did you know I am a doctor?”

The man pocketed his mobile and began to speak. “There is a medical journal in your bag. You are too young for a student and you don’t look like a professor. Though, Doctor. More specific, an Army Doctor. Afghanistan or Iraq?”

John could just stare at the man, mouth wide agape. “Afghanistan… How could you tell?”

The man sighed and began another explanation. “The way you hold your body and your hair cut are military. You are back from war, you were shot. You have a cane, though I would say in your leg. But you don’t move your legs like they were hurt, though I would think it’s psychosomatic. Conclusion is, you were shot somewhere else. I would need to see how you walk to tell were the wound is, was.”

John smiled. “That was… fantastic!”

The man looked sceptic. “You think so?”

John nodded. “Yes, that was quite extraordinary!”

“That’s not what people normally say.”

John furrowed his eyebrows. “What do they normally say?”

The man answered with a small, almost sad smile. “Piss off.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle. How could anyone think that this wasn’t amazing, fantastic, extraordinary? “Uhm… I am John, by the way. John Watson.” He extended a hand.

“Sherlock Holmes.” He shook his hand, Sherlock’s long and pale fingers closed maybe a little too long around Johns.

“Though… What are you doing for a living?”

“I am consulting detective. I help out at Scotland Yard when they can’t solve a case. Which is almost every time.”

“I have never heard of something like that.”

A small smile crossed the pale man’s face. “Of course not, I invented the job.”

They kept silent for a few minutes. John was comfortable, the silence not like on some of his dates. After a time he broke the quite. “Do you live in London?”

Sherlock seemed to shriek out of his thoughts. “Yes. I was out for a case, but I live in London.” After a few seconds, he just stared at John; he added “Actually, I am searching for a flatmate. And the state your clothes are in tell me that you don’t have a lot of money.”

John laughed. “I don’t know what to say! We have just met and you ask me to move in with you?”

Sherlock looked shocked. “I… I haven’t meant it that way!”

The doctor chuckled. “I know. Where is the flat?”

“Baker Street. It is a nice flat but I can’t afford it on my own.”

The detective and the doctor smiled at each other; there was no need to express their agreement of John looking at the flat.

 

John felt like he had known the man in front of him for a long time. But at the same time, Sherlock was a huge mystery to him to solve. They talked the whole way back to London, about Sherlock’s cases, John’s patients, their families and their life. John was fascinated by the way Sherlock could explain things, how his eyes lit up when he talked about an interesting case and how his face moved in disgust when he talked about the stupidity of humanity. John had to remind himself more than once that he wasn’t actually gay, that this man was just his maybe-flatmate.

After two hours talking they arrived at London Paddington. They walked together to the underground station when Sherlock abruptly stopped. “Do you want to see the flat now, John? It’s not far. We could get a cab.”

John eyed him curious. What was going on in Sherlock’s mind? “Sure, why not. I don’t really want to sit alone in my small flat when I could have the company of the most brilliant man I’ve ever met.” John blushed. He never intended to say those words. He sounded needy and lonely. But Sherlock just smiled and hailed for a cab.

After a short ride the cab stopped in front of a nice building, at the ground level a little diner. John got out while Sherlock paid the cabbie. The doctor looked up and down the street. It was a nice street, not too loud but in the middle of the city. It would be nice to live here.

“John. This way.” Sherlock stood on top of the stairs in front of the door, fumbling for the keys in his coat pocket.

When he finally opened the door they were greeted by a hallway with stairs leading up to another door.

“Sherlock, is that you, darling?” A small old lady came into view. “Oh, who’s your friend?”

Sherlock hugged the elderly woman. “This is John. He wants to see the flat. John, this is Mrs Hudson, the landlady.”

John shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The woman smiled. “You too, darling. I live in the flat down here. Sherlock has the flat up there.” She walked up the stairs while talking.

She stopped in the living room. John turned around to take everything in. It looked really nice. A little messy, but nice.

“Sherlock’s bedroom is over there and there is also a spare bedroom upstairs if you need one.”

Sherlock sniffed. “Of course he will need one. He can’t sleep on the sofa, can he?”

Mrs Hudson just smiled. “Do you want tea, John?” John nodded. “But just this one time. I am not your housekeeper.”

 

The living room was dominated by a huge working desk and book shelves. In front of a fire place were two chairs. There was also a sofa and a small telly. The most disturbing things in this room were the two skulls; one from a buffalo and the other human.

“Is that real?” He pointed at the skull on the mantle.

“Yes. Friend of mine. Well, I say friend.” With a smile Sherlock walked into the kitchen.

“The kitchen.” John turned. What Sherlock called the kitchen looked more like a lab to John.

“Are you experimenting in here?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes, sometimes. The bathroom is down the hallway. Would you like to see your room?” Sherlock didn't wait for an answer and strode to the door.

The bedroom was small, just a double bed, a closet and a table with chair. It was enough for John. He could imagine living here.

“I think this could work.”

Sherlock span around and looked in Johns face. “Really? I mean, are you sure? You want to live here?”

The doctor was surprised to see scepticism in Sherlock’s eyes. “Yes. When can I move in?”

The detective broke out into a smirk. “As soon as possible.”

“Great. I just need to get my things. Should be done by the end of the week.”

They walked back down the stairs and sat down on the sofa.

“I play the violin while thinking and sometimes I don’t talk for days.”

“What?” John was confused. He was sorting things in his head.

“Flatmates should know the worst things about each other.”

“Oh. Well, then, I have nightmares.”

Sherlock nodded. There was a knock on the door.

“Sherlock, haven’t you heard the doorbell?”

Behind Mrs Hudson there was a man, grey haired and with a worried look in his eyes.

“Lestrade. What do you need?”

The man walked into the room, his eyes flickered to John. “There was a murder. I need your help. Will you have a look?”

Sherlock sighed. “Crime scene?”

Lestrade shook his head. “It is a cold case, but I need it to be solved. It is related to another case I work on. I have the files here if you just could take a look at that?”

Sherlock nodded and took the folder.

Lestrades eyes wandered to John. “Hello. Greg Lestrade. DI in Scotland Yard.”

John nodded in a greeting. “Doctor John Watson. Nice to meet you.”

“And who are you exactly?”

“Oh, Sherlock’s… flatmate, I suppose.”

Mrs Hudson came back with three cups of tea.

“Thank you Mrs Hudson.” Lestrade and John said in unison.

“What is the case about?”

“Sorry, I can’t tell you. I am sure you will understand…”

“Tell him. I would tell him anyway.”

Lestrade looked caught off guard. “You would? Since when do you talk to people? And why him?”

Sherlock answered without looking up from the file. “Because he is not as dump and dull as everyone else, obviously.”

Lestrade shook his head. “Alright, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Lestrade explained the case in short. John listened curious; he didn’t know what Sherlock and Lestrade expected him to do now. “Sounds like a difficult one.”

Lestrade nodded. “That’s why I asked Sherlock to help.”

“Yeah, he told me he is working with the police.”

Sherlock suddenly shot up from the sofa. “Lestrade, this is a really easy one. It was the sister’s husband.”

Lestrade shook his head. “No, he can’t be. He has an alibi.”

“Yes, his best friend. He lied and the friend lied, too. The man is your murderer, Lestrade.”

Lestrade took the folder and walked to the door. “Thank you, Sherlock. Nice to meet you, Doctor Watson.”

With a nod he left the room. John looked stunned over to Sherlock. “Amazing. Fantastic!”

Sherlock smiled. “You realize you said that out loud?”

The doctor seemed to be back in reality. “Sorry. I will shut up now.”

“No, it’s alright.” They smiled at each other for what felt an eternity.

“Dinner?” Sherlock asked John after a while.

“Starving!”

“Alright.” Sherlock took his coat and his mobile from the table and walked down the stairs. “Thai or Italian?”

“Italian.”

“Good, I know a little restaurant not far from here. I helped to clear the owner’s name. He will give us everything for free.”

And off they were, walking side by side in the dark night. John’s hand brushed against Sherlock’s with every step they made. John’s heart fluttered and he had to tell himself ‘not gay’ the whole walk to the restaurant. He mustered the tall man beside him. ‘Alright, maybe a little gay…’.

 

The owner greeted Sherlock like an old friend. They sat down at a table at the window. “The menu, Mr. Holmes. And I will bring you a candle, more romantic!”

John didn't mind the assumption of the man and neither did Sherlock.

“Here. I don’t eat.”

John took the menu. “You don’t eat? Why not?”

“It slows me down.”

“Alright, but you have to eat.”

“I ate in the morning.”

John sighed. “You realize a human body needs more than one meal a day?”

Sherlock smiled. “Yes, but not me.”

When the waiter came to take their orders, John chose the Spaghetti Carbonara. He also ordered Penne Bolognese for Sherlock.

“John, I really am not hungry.”

John shook his head. “As long as you are my flatmate you will eat regularly, understood?”

Sherlock seemed to realize that he would lose a fight against the doctor in John. He nodded and turned to look out of the window. Their food arrived and they began to eat in silence, John realizing that Sherlock had to be hungry, according to the fact that he was already half through his penne.

“Not hungry?” John asked with a grin.

Sherlock just glared at him and continued eating.

They finished in silence and the owner came back to get the plates. “You don’t need to pay; it’s all for free for you and your date, Mr. Holmes!”

With a grin he disappeared and Sherlock stood up. “Come on, John. Do you fancy a cuppa?”

Sherlock held the door open for John. “Sure.”

 

A few minutes’ walk later and they stood once again in front of 221b Baker Street. Sherlock led the way up and into the kitchen where he prepared the kettle.

“Can I ask you something, Sherlock?” Sherlock nodded. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No, not really my area.”

“Oh. Boyfriend then?”

Sherlock shook his head.

“Good, I mean, we are both free. That’s… good.” God, what was he doing here?

“John, I am really flattered, but I consider myself as married to my work.”

“Yeah, sure. And what would you say if I were part of your work?”

Sherlock blinks. “What? I-I mean… are you really flirting with me, John?”

John choked. “Yeah, it seems so. I am sorry. I…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence; suddenly Sherlock’s hands were on his face, cupping his jaw. Sherlock kissed John. It was a sweet, tender kiss, too quick for John to respond; he was caught off guard.

“I… What… Wow.”

“Yeah, wow.” Sherlock seemed as surprised as John. “I am sorry John.”

John was confused. “Sorry for what?”

“For kissing you, obviously. You are straight and you are not really attracted to me. I am sorry. Maybe you should go now.”

John took Sherlock’s hand in his. “Sherlock, maybe I am not as straight as I thought I am. I never wanted to admit that I could be attracted to men. But I am. And I like you. And I would like to kiss you again if that’s possible.”

Sherlock looked surprised but nodded anyway. John leaned forward and his lips touched Sherlock’s lips and this time Sherlock was the one who couldn’t respond. Not because he was caught off guard but because he was shocked, surprised.

John took a step back. “Everything alright, Sherlock?”

“Y-Yes. I am just surprised. Why do you like me, John? No one ever likes me.”

John smiled softly. “Well, you are brilliant and funny and you are good-looking.”

“Funny?” John nodded and Sherlock began to realize that John is not joking.

“Maybe I should tell you some things beforehand. I am not good in this. I haven’t had a relationship since university and I have no idea how that should work. You will run away in a few weeks because I am an annoying freak.”

“You are not a freak. Just let us try, alright? Nothing serious for now, just… let us try.” John looked into Sherlock’s eyes, the grey desperate to believe what John said. He nodded.

The sound of the kettle was the end of this little romantic moment. Sherlock turned and prepared the tea. He handed one cup to John and walked into the living room, sitting down on the sofa. “You will still move in, right?”

John nodded. “Yes, I will. My landlord wants to get me out there. I don’t understand why, but I suppose he wants to earn more money.”

John sat down next to Sherlock and sipped at his tea.

“Good. I am really tired. I haven’t slept in days and I really need a shower. You can stay here if you want. Mrs Hudson has the spare keys.”

Sherlock stood up and went to his bedroom.

John has no idea what to do now. Should he stay here, in a flat he barely knew? Well, it was his flat, now, too. And he doesn’t want to take the tube home at this hour of the day. John hears the shower and stands up to switch on the telly. He was not really tired and he would need a shower, too, he thought when Sherlock turned the water on.

A few minutes later Sherlock came back to the living room. “You stay, then?”

John nodded. “Do you have a towel for me, maybe? A shower would be great.”

“Yes, I will get you one.” John followed Sherlock in his bedroom.

It was clean. Not what John expected after seeing the rest of the flat. The room wasn’t much bigger than Johns, dominated by a huge unmade bed.

“Here.” Sherlock threw a towel in Johns face. “Do you need anything else?”

John shook his head. “No, I think I am fine.”

He walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The water was hot and it felt nice to just stand there and think about nothing in particular. When the water turned cold he stepped out of the tub and got dressed.

He walked out of the bathroom and suddenly heard a moan from behind Sherlock’s door. John stopped and turned to the door. He forgot to close it entirely and now he could look into the room.

 

Sherlock lay on his bed; legs spread wide, one hand at his penis and the other clasped around one arse cheek. The sight was magnificent and John couldn’t stop staring. Another moan escaped Sherlock mouth, sounding like a very familiar name and John couldn’t contain a small gasp.

Sherlock stopped in his tracks and turned his head toward the door. “John? JOHN!”

He grabbed his sheets to cover himself up.

“No, don’t… don’t stop, please…” John opened the door wider and walked in. “Please, just… let me watch?”

Sherlock thought a few moments and nodded. “Come here.” His voice was low and his eyes blown wide with lust.

John sat down on the bed, his own arousal clearly visible through the thin boxer he wore.

Sherlock leaned up and kissed John. Their lips were moving with each other desperately. Sherlock reached down under the hem of Johns tee and lifted it up, over his head.

“Not only watching.“ Sherlock whispered into John’s ear.

John couldn’t hold back anymore and pulled away the sheet that covered up Sherlock’s groin. “God, so beautiful.” John admired the long, hard penis and watched it twitch under his gaze.

Sherlock took himself in hand and moved up and down the shaft while watching John getting rid of his boxer.

He lowered Sherlock on his back, trapping their erections between their bellies. Both men moaned at the feeling of hot flesh against flesh.

John began rocking his hips while kissing Sherlock passionately. Sherlock couldn’t do anything but grip John’s shoulders and try to return the kiss between his moans.

“John. Please… Ah!... fuck me…god.”

“Okay, okay.” John was breathless and this request made him shudder. He has never fucked another man.

“Lube? Condoms?”

Sherlock fumbled under his pillow for the lube. “I don’t have condoms.”

John leaned down to his trousers and pulled out his purse. “But I have.” He held up a package and grinned.

He let his trousers fall on the floor again and got to his knees to sit between Sherlock thighs.

He took the lube and squished some in his palm to warm it up a bit. With his free hand he circled Sherlock’s entrance. “Relax, Sherlock.”

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes, floating away with the feeling of Johns hand against his arse.

John began to work Sherlock open, his lube slick finger gliding in and out of Sherlock.

“More…” John obeyed immediately by adding a second finger. He also searched for a certain spot. Sherlock cried out when John finally found it.

After a few minutes he added a third finger. Sherlock was a moaning mess under John’s fingers and he loved the sight of his new flatmate losing control.

“I am… ready… John… now!”

John retreated his fingers and rolled on the condom. He made sure he is slicked with enough lube before lining up with Sherlock’s entrance.

Slowly he let his erection glide in Sherlock, both men moaning loud and breathless.

John stopped when he was buried deep inside of Sherlock.

After a few seconds Sherlock nodded. “Go on.”

John started to move again, slowly at first but with every thrust he gained more confidence and thrust harder and faster. Sherlock’s hand moved between their bodies and took hold of his cock, pumping in time with John’s thrusts.

Sherlock was the one to come first. His muscles clenched around Johns cock and brought him to his own orgasm. His vision went white and he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He landed on Sherlock and slowly moved his hips to pull out.

“God, Sherlock, that was...”

Sherlock reached up to cub Johns jaw. “Yes, it was.”

John got up after a while, to clean himself and Sherlock up. He tossed a towel to Sherlock.

“Thank you.” The responds was sleepy and Sherlock just cleaned his belly from his own semen. “Come back to bed, John.”

John collapsed beside him, buried deep in the sheets. Sherlock curled up at the side of John, head resting on his chest.

“Good night, Sherlock.” But Sherlock was no longer aware of the spoken words. John sighed and closed his eyes too, the first time happy since he came back from war and without nightmares for the first time in month.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this! I take prompts for further fics, if you want to read something Special!


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